


Artificial

by RenaRoo



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4438787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Charon requires an advantage in the conflict, they decide to rely on some old shadows from the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Artificial

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the-crimson-question](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the-crimson-question).



> Prompt: ( the-crimson-question ) Fic idea for you, Rena. Bad dudes capture Carolina and make an AI based off her brain like her dad did with Alpha, doesn’t take due to 2 AI going crazy, but as a side effect, they get one based off of York instead, like what happened with Tex so Carolina has her own version of the Director and Tex going on. Have fun with that *lightning and evil laughter is heard from Arkansas*
> 
> A/N: Crim is a terribly evil person who almost made me want to start another multicahpter RvB fic before Divided was even over. Like. Just rude, dude. You cannot give me ideas this juicy, this good, this wonderful. It’s just not fair.
> 
> But yes I found this idea soul crushingly good
> 
> EDIT: So this has been in my drafts for a week and wasn’t published. OOPS.

She sat in the chair, glaring at the reflection in the one-way mirror. The neural scanner rested across her brow like a tiara. It reminded her of testing, of mental mapping, of Freelancer.

Her grip tightened on the arm rests as the beam of light circled her once more.

“Is this line of questioning necessary?” she asked during the pause.

“I’m afraid it is, Agent Carolina,” the unfamiliar voice said over the comm system. 

He was a harsh questioner, he didn’t have patience or indirect lines of questioning. It was nothing like their sessions with the counselor. Carolina found herself very thankful for that.

“This technology is suspiciously similar to Project Freelancer’s,” she shot back, eyes focused on where she was _certain_ the group testing her was watching. 

“That is because many artifacts of the UNSC were on loan to the late Doctor Church,” the man said darkly. “It is standard protocol by the Oversight Committee to question the keynote witness through Neural Scanning. It is a very effective way of ensuring that you are not lying, exaggerating, or skipping in your testimony.”

“I never said it didn’t make sense,” Carolina returned snappishly. “Just that I have as much reason to be suspicious of _you_ as you do of _me.”_ Her eyes narrowed. “Especially since the testimony of my AI was apparently not enough for your investigations.”

“You can refuse the testing, Carolina,” a second voice came over the speakers. “But to conclude our investigations within UNSC regulations, we would still require one person to pass our questions with the neural scanner.”

The very insinuation made Carolina’s stomach flip. “And... that would be Agent Washington, I’m assuming.”

“Unlike you, Agent Carolina,” the first voice growled out, “Agent Washington _is_ in our custody and has been sentenced previously. He would be required to finish this line of testing.”

The light passed by her forehead once more. Carolina narrowed her eyes.

Wash had been through enough. Most of it because he had been abandoned by them -- by _all_ the escaping Freelancers -- when he needed them ( _her_ ) most. And his experience with this type of equipment was _far_ less savory. 

Not to mention, with all he had been through, it was untelling what Wash’s neural signatures would read out as. They could all be at risk if the damage done by Epsilon’s initial implantation made it impossible for Wash to pass a neural scan.

“Then let’s do this,” Carolina responded darkly as the scanner passed by her yet another time. 

* * *

Hargrove produced a napkin from his suit pocket and begun tirelessly wiping down his hands. The photo ops with the ‘colorful heroes’ of Project Freelancer had been an irritation in his life for more than a half hour.

The only thing that had assisted his patience was knowing that once it was all over and that the Committee and Charon Industries would receive favorable publicity from the outing. 

And also knowing that his extraplanetary exploits were going according to schedule. 

In the sanctity of his office, doors closed, Hargrove sat in wait for his personal cruiser to begin transport. 

He turned on F.I.L.S.S.

“Yes. Chairman?” she droned tiredly.

“F.I.L.S.S., how goes our progress with neural replication of our dear, young _Agent_ Church?” he asked, expectations high.

“Once more, replication was _not_ met with success, Chairman.”

He slammed his fist onto the desk. He could feel his blood boiling. “This is _not_ the news I was wanting to hear, F.I.L.S.S.!”

“Running these processes without proper UNSC ordained equipment is highly difficult, Chairman,” the AI explained. “A _full_ AI is difficult to produce without very high levels of energy usage regardless. This is why we usually produce full AI only at UNSC headquarters’ main lab on Earth. And why the Director did not simply use a full AI.”

“We do not have the means, F.I.L.S.S.,” Hargrove growled. “You simply must complete your objective as ordered under the circumstances provided.”

“Of course,” she replied. “However, Chairman... it is of note that an unexpected result came of our latest attempt.”

“If it is not an AI, I am not interested,” he said darkly.

“Bu, Sir. It was not a full AI... but a rare phenomenon documented as a _Shadow Effect.”_

Hargrove turned more directly to F.I.L.S.S.’ screen. He crossed his fingers and stared at her. “You’re correct, F.I.L.S.S.,” he said. “I’m interested.”

He had read about Agent Texas -- about the AI known as _Beta._ About how its creation spurred the decisions to be made by the late Director Church himself. 

Suddenly, the Chairman was intrigued again.

* * *

She was handling herself just fine. These mercenaries were far from the worst fighters she had ever taken, but they were still behind the Insurrectionists and their ilk that she had taken years beforehand. 

Not to mention, Carolina had gotten even _better_ since her days in Freelancer.

Their patterns and formations hinted to some sort of training and coaching -- most likely from Locus -- but it also helped Carolina project their movements. 

Epsilon was giving good read outs until two shifts of formation happened.

“Wait a minute,” the AI murmured in her ear. 

“You think they’re falling back?” Carolina guessed, pitting herself into another ready position and giving Epsilon a good survey of the enemies. “We’ve taken down enough of them to warrant it. That’s for sure.”

“No, it’s not that,” he continued. “It’s just... I don’t think they’d break lines like this unless there was some kind of reinforcements coming in on the other end. You get what I mean?” 

“Somewhat,” Carolina said, bursting with the speed boost toward another section of pirates. They dropped quickly as she combed through them efficiently. “I’m just wondering who--”

She and Epsilon looked above as a hovercraft passed,  pausing amidst the formations. As its hatch opened, Epsilon made a shuffle.

“See. I knew it.”

Carolina spared him a look before punching the last of her particular group of soldiers. “Don’t be a smart ass,” she warned in good humor. 

“Alright, incoming,” Epsilon warned. “Big guy hard to read--”

In a boost, she backed off, surveyed as the reinforcement dropped from the hovercraft, hitting the grounds hard enough to audibly break the surface. It was apparent from its signature weapon to the stature to its body language that they were looking at none other than Locus.

But Carolina nearly tripped and felt her insides begin to turn out as she stared at the armor of one of her closest of lost friends.

“Maine,” she gasped, ignoring how Epsilon screeched for her to watch out. 

A bullet grazed her shoulder, bringing her back into reality. It didn’t take long for her to find cover, but her heart was still pounding far too fast.

“What-- _What right does he have to be wearing that!?”_ she cried out as Epsilon appeared by her shoulder. “How _dare_ he!?”

“We’ve got worse than that,” Epsilon shot back. “I’m picking up _multiple_ enhancements across his armor.”

“Which ones?” 

“ _All_ of them,” Epsilon explained in exasperation. 

Carolina narrowed her eyes. “How? _We_ can’t even do that! How is he running multiple enhancements without an AI?”

“Well, that’s bad news number two.”

She glared at the cobalt projection, opening her mouth to question him further when it felt as though the entire battlefield grew silent.

Save for the voice she only heard when she dared to fall asleep.

“Looks like these guys are all pinned by a single soldier and an AI. The majority of the thermal scans are from further south.”

Epsilon grew silent, but he didn’t need to say anything. Carolina was already thinking it all. She knew that voice -- she knew it more than she knew herself.

She turned and gazed out over her cover to see the yellow spark of light by Locus’ head. 

They had gone too far. 

“YORK!!!” she screamed.

There was little hesitation before the light disappeared and Locus turned back, grasping for his -- for _Maine’s_ helmet -- growling and cursing. 

“We have to get out of here and we have to get out of here _now!”_ Epsilon demanded.

“No, I can’t--” Carolina started, readying her gun. 

“Carolina, _please!_ Not now. We can’t win this this way. Leave while we have the chance.”

Still chilled to the bone, mind racing, Carolina listened. 

* * *

"It is _unacceptable_ to have equipment fail in the field in this way!” Hargrove roared.

Below them, Locus was being looked over by medical staff. The AI was being looked at by the engineers. 

But it wasn’t an AI. Hargrove needed to keep that in mind, had to remember that what they were tampering with was the very road that led the late Director Church to his grave. 

“We are dealing with a _shadow_ AI,” the recently recruited Counselor reminded him, folding hands behind his back. “And as such, it is... more wild. More unpredictable. Almost... more _human.”_

Hargrove turned, glaring at Price. “Are you telling me that this sequence of numbers can’t be properly programmed?”

“Not at all,” Price said as soft as a whisper. “It can be as manipulated as any tool. But, it is going to require a far more subtle hand.” His eyes flickered with something dangerous. “And I will need more information on its acquisition. If you had shared that upfront, I might have been able to warn you about a possible encounter in the field. This could have been prevented.”

The Chairman narrowed his eyes. “You are on a _need to know_ basis, Counselor. Do not overstep your bounds.”

“I understand that, Chairman,” the Counselor returned, looking out into the medical bay. “I’m merely providing some insight as to what would best qualify as _need to know_ now.”

“Such as?”

Price looked slightly over his shoulder. “Were you _aware_ that this particular shadow was based on one of my former Freelancers?”

* * *

Carolina concentrated on he grooves of her helmet, took a deep and methodical breath as she considered everything she had seen. Everything she _knew_. 

Epsilon kicked at the air in front of her vision. The sprite was disheveled as well, rubbing at his neck and pacing. 

“You know it’s not going to be him, right?” he said softly. “It’s... _never_ going to be him.”

Carolina blinked, rolled over the words. 

“I do know that,” she said, looking up to Epsilon. “But he’s here because of me, somehow. I... I’m responsible for him existing. And I want to make sure that he has a chance at being something more than a weapon for Charon.”

Her AI is less than convinced. He crossed his arms and tilted his head suspiciously. “You’re just doing it from the bottom of your heart?”

“Probably not,” she said, setting her helmet back on. “But I’ll never let them get away with using _him_ against me. And, besides, you could use a friend on your level.”


End file.
